A Wish Upon A Star
by lavariel
Summary: When Yuuri is pressured to take the full responsibilities of being King, he wishes for a way out... under a falling star. Pairings: YuuriWolfram, ConradYuuri, future MaouWolfram


**A Wish Upon A Star**

**_By Lavariel_**

****

His breathing was labored and Shibuya Yuuri let out a few gasping grunts as he once again found the need to empty his stomach. Perhaps he had been too excited for his coming of age celebration bash and ate like a glutton, feeling his every right to get drunk and be merry. Conrad had warned him of the possible aftereffects of overeating and drinking too much alcohol but he didn't listen, wanting to celebrate this one day by his own rules. Of course, Wolfram was there, green-eyed and jealous of all the noblewomen who came to bear His Majesty gifts, all the while leaning a bit too close and showing off their enormous cleavages and pressing his arm between their breasts. Of course, they'd do that.

The Maou is now ready to take full responsibility of his kingdom and to do so would entail the need to look for a wife to bear an heir, preferably a son, to secure Shin Makoku's future.

And of course, Wolfram was the first candidate, through an accident proposal or not. Yuuri remembered his surprise at finding out that although men do not have the reproductive organ to bear a child, a Maou's powerful seed can impregnate anyone, male or female. Conrad explained all of this to him in great detail but it was so utterly mundane that he only recalled the specifics. The said sperm could possibly alter a person's internal organs, making it fit for pregnancy. However, in impregnating a man, Yuuri noted, that the child must be born in what humans in his world would call a Caesarian.

Yuuri loved Wolfram though, in a way he couldn't quite understand but knew it wasn't enough.

Even if his coming of age had its own sets of new liberties, it also entailed great responsibilities. He was now expected to function more effectively, act and lead on his own, without the presence of his advisors. He certainly didn't know what to do without Conrad -- that brown-haired man with gentle earthen eyes that burns with fury every time someone harms Yuuri. Yuuri certainly loved him in many ways – as a father, brother, mentor, idol and to an extent, a lover of some sort. They both knew how much they cared for each other and that alone prevents them from being together. That's not the life of a Shin Makoku soldier. Attachment and sudden loss would just be too painful. And wordlessly, they understood each other's sentiments.

Closing his eyes, he leaned against the bark of a fruitless tree, joyous that he had finally earned some time alone with his thoughts. Yuuri mused about Gwendal, smiling in spite of his alcohol-induced state. He was one of the most enigmatic men the black-haired boy had ever met. Gruff and stoic on the outside but soft and caring on the inside. And his penchant for sewing distorted but adorably cute little animal mascots made Yuuri all the more interested in Gwendal's seemingly complex personality. He thought absently, 'I bet he'd make either a strict, disciplinarian father or a quiet, domestic mother'. And then, he mused about Gunter too. Gunter was a beautiful man, considering how much the young king had been quite taken with those seemingly translucent silvery mane though not as much admiration and awe when he first saw pretty boy Wolfram. Gunter was one of His Majesty's loyal advisors and the kind of person who's unafraid to show and vocalize his feelings for his king.

Tearing his ebony gaze from the castle (for he had used his freedom to loiter around the palace gardens to settle for a quiet, solitary place to think), Yuuri looked up at the sky, the glittering lights blinking unsteadily, perched on the vast expanse of the night skies. He felt a tear or two dampening his tanned cheeks, feeling the familiar pressure of all of his people's smiles counting on every decision that he makes, rational or not. And remembering Wolfram, Conrad, Gwendal, Gunter and his daughter, Greta, Yuuri felt the immense sense of abandon if ever he should fail their expectations. He loved them all but the building angst in his gut made him double over and vomit into a nearby bush.

Suddenly, he thought, 'What I want, what I really want is a way out of this but I want everyone to be happy. I can't take my responsibilities. I'm a wimp. I can't do this. I wish the Maou and I had separate souls and bodies instead. I want to protect and love them but I can't do that if I'm king and everything depends on me. They don't need a wimpy king like me; they're too good for me. They need someone who knows what he wants, rational, just and confident. I'm none of that. And my people… I'm too young. I just can't… Why can't things be different?'

King… what did he know about power? He never asked for this, never even dreamt about it. It wasn't like in this in those fancy academy-award winning Western, Elizabethan movies, most of which he could barely make out the plot, basically because he was only a Japanese high school student who knew nothing about the real world. One thing was clear about his perception of kings: Shibuya Yuuri is a boy unfit to be one. He was just a child, in body and in heart. But obviously, not in spirit. The Maou dwelled inside him, used his body to rule this foreign land with its strange people and customs.

All he wanted to do was play baseball and maybe even lead his own team someday. Start a family perhaps, with a beautiful, modest Japanese wife and maybe a kid or two. He'll earn a living working as a coach for a national team or local university. Yuuri smiled bitterly, his eyes still closed as crystalline moisture dampened some of his long black bangs.

He closed his eyes tight, the events of the past years drowning him in a glorious ocean wave, lulling him to inevitable feelings of regret, self-hate and bittersweet remembrance. There were things that he had wanted to remember and treasure all his life as well as those things that broke his soul and bled his heart dry until there wasn't any blood left.

Just in the fleeting lapse of succumbing to slumber, Shibuya Yuuri thought he saw a falling star and vaguely muttered a familiar custom from his world:

_"Star light, star bright,  
First star I see tonight,  
I wish I may, I wish I might,  
Have the wish I wish tonight."_

And then he slept like a child… the longest and the most peaceful rest he'd ever experience in the course of his eighteen-year old life.

A/N: This is my first fanfic on the KKM fandom. Honest feedbacks, suggestions, questions and constructive criticisms are welcomed and encouraged.


End file.
